WINGS?
by Apple Glass
Summary: I grew wings over the summer! The very summer I transferred to Hogwarts from America! And "Magical Mesmerizing", the number one teen witch fashion magazine doesn't deliver overseas! My life has officialy ended.


**W**** I N G S ? ? ?**

**Chapter One: America****n Transfer**

It's a disaster!

Soon, my mom is gonna come into my room and start berating me because I'm taking too long to be ready, and she will see the mess my room is, and her tone will go high-pitched, I just know it!

But, damn, I just can't start thinking of that now!

I need to find my corset!

Good, found it. I now proceed to strap it on, carefully folding them so they are stuck to my back, and not flapping around without my consent…

You see, I grew wings this past summer.

I know! It's crazy! It was more than enough with all the silly teenage things happening to me: hormones, body changes, icky things flowing out… and now this! It started like an itch; I kept scratching and scratching, but it wouldn't relieve it. I looked at the trouble spot using two mirrors, and saw two red bumps in the middle of my back; it got worse with the days.

I couldn't tell my mom, though. She's never home; she works the long hours in a company and gets home very tired, and whenever I start telling her something, she goes all 'mm-hmm', and I clearly know she's not paying attention. She's this practical, no-nonsense type; imagine our conversation:

"Mom, I'm growing wings out of my back."

"Mm-hmm…"

"Mom, listen to me! This is serious!"

"Mm-hmm…"

So, no, no girl-to-woman chats with her.

I couldn't tell my friends, either. They'd start thinking I was weird, and hell no! They'd probably leave me alone and start pointing at me and whispering things and making me the local weirdo, and I am fine with the decently popular person I am, thank you very much. So I was left to figure this out myself.

But, did it happen to be just now, when I've transferred to a new school abroad?

Platform nine three-quarters. Heh heh. What a funny little thing. Back in America, our parents take us to a regular building, in regular cars, and we _pretend_ we are just regular, private school students. But the fun happens underground, miles and miles down underground; our real school, the magical one, is a very interesting, fun place.

I'm gonna miss it so much.

"Move on, Angelina!"

"Yes, mom."

Yeah, that's my name. Angelina. Before this summer, I had always thought it was a common, garden-variety sort of name. But now…

I wonder, though, does my mom know something that I don't? My father's identity, for example?

But I doubt I'll ever get the truth out of her. The story is anything but enlightening: she wanted to have a child, but had no spouse, and didn't want a married life, either. I'm an in-vitro child, from an anonymous donor.

I wonder who the anonymous donor was…

"Hey! Watch out!"

"Ou!"

A red-haired boy had just bumped into me, or I'd bumped into him, I don't know. I was too distracted to notice.

"Sorry," I said, grinning sheepishly.

He seemed nice. He said 'don't mention it' and walked away.

He was kind of cute, too.

Okay, so we go in train. Nice. I've never been in a train for so long, and I'm starting to get bored.

Back in America, I was subscribed to Magically Mesmerizing, the number one teen magazine for witches. I never missed a number: it contained a number of useful tips about how to do one's hair, how to charm clothes to favour one's figure, how to banish those ugly little blemishes from one's face, etc. What I liked so much about them was that they gave you spells you could try at home; in America, they allow students to try level one and two spells before they are of age. Otherwise, how are we going to learn? But I'm straying; Magically Mesmerizing, or MM, as I use to call it, guaranteed you that the Department of Magic wouldn't come after you for trying to straighten your hair, for example, or for charming a dress to make you look size four. It was awesome, and my friends and I spent so much time trying on the spells it seemed we lived for nothing else.

You can imagine how crushed I was when I learned they didn't deliver overseas.

So I was on the train, reading and re-reading the last number of MM. It was both out of boredom and because I needed some comfort; I hadn't told my mom, but I was very afraid of not fitting in, and not making any friends. I wish we could have stayed in America, where I was popular and had many friends, but things just couldn't be that way. Mom's work, you know; they transferred her to Ireland. Something about 'needing her expertise' and 'being for the good of the team' and all those nonsense reasons adults have for doing things they don't want to do. I wish they could just be honest with themselves and be where they want to be, doing what they want to do and not putting a brave face forever and do the things they hate.

As of lately, my mother didn't seem to enjoy her job.

"Can we sit here?"

Two girls and a boy had walked into my compartment. I nodded.

"Sure, come right in."

They sat and started talking among themselves.

"I haven't seen you around, are you new?" A red-haired girl asked me.

"Yes, I just got transferred from America," I answered.

"Oh, America," said a blonde girl, with wide, blue eyes. "Have you ever seen a Corktailed Hogmonkey? They make their habitat in the Rocky Mountains, I've been told".

"N-no…" I replied, not knowing what the hell she was talking about. "I've never been to the Rocky Mountains."

"Pity," she replied, and went back to her magazine.

"So, I take it you haven't been sorted?" The boy asked me.

"Sorted?" I was puzzled.

"Yeah, you know, into one of the Houses,"

"H-houses?" I was getting nervous; I hadn't read anything about any houses. I have a love-hate relationship with textbooks; when I have exams, I carry them around all the time, waiting for its contents to transfer into my mind without my having to actually read them.

Hey, it's the magical world! It could happen!

But when I don't have to study, I don't even look at them. Not interested in the least bit.

"There's four houses, you know," continued the boy, patiently. I was immensely thankful for it. "Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw; the Sorting Hat - that's a hat that was magically enhanced hundreds of years ago to sort students - sends you to one of the four houses based on how you are."

"Yes," added the blonde, "Gryffindor takes the brave and courageous, Hufflepuff takes those willing to work hard, Ravenclaw takes the wise and quick of wit--"

"--and Slytherin takes the boneheaded bastards," added the redhead.

I didn't know if I should laugh or not, so I let out a small giggle and covered my mouth, hoping it was what they were expecting me to do.

"Not exactly," said the blonde, "Slytherin takes the cunning and resourceful."

"That's a euphemism for _supreme pain in the buttocks_," the redhead said, matter-of-factly. "Always been and always will."

I take it they don't like the house of Slytherin.

"What house are you guys in?" I asked, interested. I wondered if they would remain my friends if I got sorted into Slytherin, though I'm not exactly _cunning_ or _resourceful_.

"Neville and I are in Gryffindor-- sorry, I'm Ginny," said the redhead, shaking my hand. "And Luna here," she pointed at the blonde, "is in Ravenclaw."

"Nice," I replied. "I'm not sure where I'd fit in; I'm not any of the things you just said."

"Don't worry," said the boy, Neville, "the hat is nice, and puts you in the place you'd fit better, even if it has to look inside your head for a while, like it did to me."

I smiled. They all seemed nice. I guess I won't have much trouble making friends here, after all.

Wow, the school was a castle. We rode towards the castle in carriages pulled by ugly, strange black winged horses. I had never seen one of them in the flesh, though I vaguely remember seeing something similar in a textbook.

Ginny kept talking to Luna about how she wanted to try out for… quitech? quittage? Something of that sort, this year. Luna replied that she liked riding in brooms, but that she'd put a… something ending in '-chee' charm on it first, to avoid… something that I quite didn't catch. Neville added that he was no good in a broom, and that he preferred travelling through the Floo network. Yes, that one I did know.

The castle was huge, its stairs and corridors long and cold-looking, in spite of the torches hanging every twenty steps. Yes, I counted. I was trying to take it all in, and trying not to look like a scared newbie. A tall, grim-looking woman in emerald green robes introduced herself and welcomed us to Hogwarts; she addressed me particularly after delivering a few words.

"Miss Watterson, seeing how it's your first year in Hogwarts, you need to be sorted first, come with me, please."

I waved my goodbyes to Ginny, Luna and Neville, wishing I got sorted in one of their houses. I really didn't want to be away from the first friends I'd made in that new and scary place.

Professor McGonagall walked briskly before me, her robes swishing around as she made her silent way towards a large, oaken door. A group of scared-looking kids thronged outside it, looking apprehensively at the tall teacher, at me and all the surrounding walls. I guess I was just as scared as they looked, because McGonagall put a hand to my shoulder and talked to me.

"Don't worry, this will only take a minute. Walk between the tables, straight towards the Sorting Hat, place it in your head and wait."

"Okay," I said, rather softer than I'd meant, and did as told.

It was a large dining hall full of expectant students. I tried not to look at them to avoid getting more nervous. I wished I didn't do something stupid right then, under at least a thousand attentive eyes.

The Sorting Hat felt heavy, and made an odd sound when I lifted it, like a gasp. I ignored it, thinking I'd imagined it, and put it on my head.

Then a voice poured into my head, and I almost fell off the stool I'd sat on.

"Ah, what do we have here?" it said.

"W-who is there?" I asked, gripping hard the sides of the stool.

"Are you afraid of me?" it asked.

"Y-yess… no," I replied, trying to steady my heart beats. I had just remembered Neville's words: 'the hat is nice'. I sincerely hoped Neville was right.

"Yes you are," it added, "but you're trying your best to overcome it, aren't you? That's enough for me. Gryffindor!" it yelled the last word.

I took off the hat and placed it carefully on the stool. Ginny and Neville were waving at me from one of the tables; I walked up to them, smiling.

"Welcome to the best house of Hogwarts," they said, making way so I could sit besides them. "We're gonna have so much fun, you'll see."

I saw. I had friends, I was liked, and the red-haired boy I had seen in the morning was two spots away from me, between a black-haired boy and a brown-haired girl.

It was certainly going to be fun but for the consistent pain in my back that told me I wasn't going to be as happy as I'd envisioned.


End file.
